


Springtime, The Only Pretty Ring Time

by hugh_jassmann



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Masturbation, Pollination, rage fury irritation humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 19:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugh_jassmann/pseuds/hugh_jassmann
Summary: Cagney has some fun in the spring





	Springtime, The Only Pretty Ring Time

It was the dawn of springtime and everything was coming to life. The children of Inkwell chased bugs in the meadows and caught fish in the river, the warm spring sun casting just the right amount of light for their play. Birds flew to and fro from their nests and the ground, catching food for their newly hatched babies, and bees hopped and sputtered from flower to flower.

Cagney Carnation was restless.

Truth be told, he wasn’t fond of springtime. He, unlike all the other flowers he knew, dreaded the season for the feelings it always brought him. He sat hunched under his tree with his arms crossed, scowling dramatically at the birds and bees passing him by. He had his thorns at the ready, the small pointy tips of the spikes poking out of his stem. 

He heard a chirp and looked up to see a sparrow perched on a branch, her mate soon flitting down to roost next to her, and the two birds snuggled close to each other happily. Cagney growled up at them and bared his teeth, and the sparrow couple exchanged glances down their beaks before flying up to a higher spot in the tree. Cagney grunted angrily as he heard them chirp lovingly again, realizing that he probably just scared them up to a better view.

The smell of pollen in the air made his nose twitch and added to his frustration. He wasn’t mad that everyone was having fun but him, well, yeah, he was a little mad about that. But he was mostly upset that he was the only flower in all of the Inkwell Isles without anyone to pollinate. It was the same every year, he had to tend to his springtime needs by himself, the feeling being sated for a few blissful hours until his body screamed at him to spew his pollen out into the air once again. And he was getting agitated as that feeling returned.

He felt his cloaca begin to spread open, and he groaned with weariness and arousal as he felt his flowery cock slide it’s way out. He coiled on the ground and ran a long finger over the tip, the sticky yet slick nectar leaking out acting as a lubricant for his explorations. He rested a finger on his lips as he jerked himself off with slow strokes, and he couldn’t stop the lewd grin that spread across his face at the wet noises he was making. He gave himself a rough squeeze and rumbled a low moan, gently biting on the tip of his finger.

He sped his hand up, gripping his cock hard and spreading his nectar all around, gasping as his stamens wriggled out of his slit, resting comfortably next to his hardness. They quivered as he got faster still, dusting pollen all over the ground at his roots.   
A curse slipped past his lips and he dipped his free hand down to his length to scoop up some of the sweet nectar. He snaked his long finger into his mouth and sucked the honey-like substance off of it, letting out a lecherous chuckle at the taste of himself on his tongue. He gave himself another squeeze, letting out a shuddery and heavy groan and sucking hard on the finger in his mouth as he splattered nectar on the soft soil under him. His stamen shook, spreading a cloud of pollen into the air, Cagney panting slumped against his tree as he watched the small yellow puff float away on the wind.

The flower took a few minutes to catch his breath, and he let out little gasps as his cock continued to twitch and his stamens swayed, his nectar splashing onto the ground and forming a small puddle at his roots. He sighed contentedly as his cloud of pollen dispersed over the trees in the distance and he shoveled some dirt over the nectar puddle. He leaned back against his tree, no longer so bothered by the sound of birds tweeting and bees buzzing, relaxed and able to enjoy the babble of the nearby brook. At least, for a little while.


End file.
